Familiarity
by Elwyndra
Summary: Fascination, then came attraction. For Anthony, Mr. Todd was a mysterious comfort, a longing finally realized. For Sweeney, Anthony Hope was a lost memory come to life. Swucy, Swanthony Slash OneShot


**Familiarity**

**A/N: Dun dun dun... **As expected, my second fic for Sweeney Todd has become, inevitably (and in a very pleasing way) a **Slash Fic! **:P Don't worry, its not graphic.. -shivers inwardly- I don't think I can write it anyway even _if _I wanted to. Besides, I don't really see them too touchy about each other, especially if Sweeney's obsessed about killing and finding Lucy (sorta) more than hitting on a guy. Lol. XD But I dunno. Tis just me.

**Hope you enjoy, please read and review, I'd appreciate it very much! (;**

**WARNING: SLASH INCLUDED! And quite a bit of OOCness. (I tried to keep them in character! Lol)**

**NOTE: Johanna is not included in the story, sorry guys! Just our two guys. (:**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sweeney Todd! I wish I did! XD  
Nor 'Beauty from Pain' by Superchick!

**x X x**

_**There will be  
**__**Beauty from Pain**_

**x X x**

His eyes.

That was the first thing Anthony noticed when he set eyes on Mr.Todd.

This man he had found lost at sea.

A mysterious stranger with a glimmer of hidden lights in his pupils.

To Anthony, he wasn't quite sure what exactly these lights may represent. At times he saw anger, and then abruptly turning into something utterly different.

_Hurt._

_Loss._

_... Joy_

But in spite of these emotions that seemed to linger and radiate from this darkened figure, the young sailor did not shy away.

When Mr. Todd left the ship, he followed as both their feet echoed on the faintly familiar cold cobblestones. It was curiosity that made him move. A flare that burned quite slowly, wavering inside of him as his emotional wind made it twist and turn in a soft dance.

The dark haired man with a streak of white had not said a word. Did not argue or complain. He looked at Anthony with a shrug and a disinterested look. As if Anthony was just another trivial thing. A mere brick on London's countless walls.

Anthony said nothing as well. He noticed the look in Sweeney's eyes, but he could also see something pure and innocent in them as well. Even if he had not noticed this, he most likely would not have said anything.

Anthony just continued to study the man as they walked through the misty harbor, somehow making London look like a long, irregularly shaped shadow.

He was surprised when Mr. Todd spoke, this time about a tale of a Barber and his Wife.

Anthony was moved at how each syllable Mr. Todd uttered was something akin to a melodious howl, a mournful cry of a lone wolf. Rarely had he met anyone who linked themselves so deeply with a person. A lot of the people he had met were not too generous, but he must have been much more luckier.

As Anthony continued to listen, his heart sank to hear that the Barber was taken away, while his wife fell. To what, he could not say.

Without thinking, he felt himself say, "The lady, sir... did she succumb?"

Mr. Todd did not turn to look at him. Anthony opened his mouth, guilt suddenly flooding him. Perhaps he had spoke something he should not have.

But Sweeney answered.

"_Ah it was many years ago...  
__I doubt if anyone would know."_

Anthony licked his dry lips. He wanted to say something, but he was not quite sure if he should thank Mr. Todd for the story, or try to comfort him. In his mind's eye, he could imagine the Barber and his wife, the other man who stole away everything dear to the condemned Barber. And an image of his wife, falling through a black chasm, with not a hint of light as a maliciously, triumphant laughter rang in place of arms that could catch her from below.

"I'd like to thank you, Anthony.  
If you hadn't found me, I'd be lost in the ocean still.."

Anthony smiled softly. A gentle warmth gathered inside, mingling with the curious flame from before. But it dissipated quickly, realizing that his short-time companion on the ship will be gone soon, off to find his newest destination. At this thought, his heart sunk and his lips faded into a sad frown.

"Will I see you again?"

He waited. It came.

"You may find me, if you like,  
around Fleet Street."

There was a pause, and following these sentence was words that somehow made Anthony shiver for reasons quite unknown to him.

"I wouldn't wander."

A relieved grin spread over Anthony's lips again at hearing this. He would not be alone here in this new, slightly changed London now. He had a friend. A man he hardly knew, but connected nonetheless. Overcome with a momentary joy, Anthony reached out his hand to Sweeney.

"Until then, my friend."

The man's hand did not reach out to touch his. He stared at it, carrying an expression so concentrated and far away from the present. Anthony let his hand fall back to his side, with a puzzled look. Mr. Todd had turned his back now, carrying his dark brown bag.

The young sailor stared at his friend's back, a similar color to the landscape that stretched before him. And yet movement prevented him from not noticing this single character, his cautious and yet straightforward movement of his body, boots slamming onto the coal colored ground. Eventually the gathering white mist made it hard for Anthony to find Sweeney.

He turned away, and walked the opposite direction. As he did this, a song flowed through his mind. Words that seemed to long for something, an object or a person. An urge to grasp - to understand - the unknown.

He sang, close to that of a whisper, but heard quietly.

_I feel you..._

His heartbeat steadily.

**x X x**

Anthony walked.

With each step, his heart begun to pound rhythmically. His mind was more consumed with thoughts of Mr. Todd.

The mystery surrounding this man.

The look in Mr. Todd's eyes.

The way this stranger had glanced at him, observing for a moment.

Anthony could still remember it vividly. It had felt uneasy under those watchful eyes. Sweeney had been taking him in, each and every detail. Anthony could see it, and feel the invisible probing on his fragile skin.

When at last he seemed to finish, Mr. Todd had grimaced and spoke. "_You will learn.."_

"Learn what, Mr. Todd?" Anthony whispered, shaking his head.

He tried to push it away. It didn't help. It kept nagging at his conscious.

Mr. Todd's voice echoed.

"_You may find me, if you like,  
__around Fleet Street.  
__... I wouldn't wander."_

It stayed with Anthony as he passed by the anonymous gentleman and women, these sentences continuing to torment him. He gave out a sigh and sat onto a nearby bench that he found. He put his bag onto the ground, taking out a book that he was not quite finished with.

Flipping through each page, his eyes immersed with the words and even so, his concentration slipping.

Anthony looked up at the light gray sky, biting his lips.

_Why was he feeling this way? Surely there was nothing Mr. Todd can explain to him either_

The young man imagined Mr. Todd's face, his slightly wild hair, as black as night and yet with white as silvery as the moonlight. He looked down at his book, and the words that seemingly spilled in his vision.

And then moving using his own imagination. Each syllable floating up inside the paper and rearranging themselves.

"_A Barber and his Wife."_

Anthony could only watch with wonder and surprise. But when he blinked, the book had its own story written together, not a single mention of the Barber of his Wife in the chapters.

_I feel you.._

Anthony stood up.He shut the book, put it back inside where it belonged and picked up his bag. He was going to visit Mr. Todd in Fleet Street, and find out what exactly that was calling his heart to this stranger he hardly even knew.

_A stranger, but a friend._

**x X x**

The bell rang and jingled, signaling the sound of a customer.

Anthony opened the door slowly. Uncertainly he entered, to find Mr. Todd's back to him. He was holding a glinting razor in his right hand. For a moment, the sailor thought this single image before him looked as if he was staring at a magnificent statue, carved and later painted with black, white and gray ink in the most delicate of ways.

And Mr. Todd glanced at Anthony, his eyes alert. A slight look of annoyance and surprise seemed to jump into his face, creasing a little of his face.

Anthony stood, still holding the doorknob, feeling faint. The smell of shaving cream seemed to fill the room, tingling his senses. He entered the room, shutting the door.

He was shocked now as well.

Mr. Todd was a Barber.

Anthony looked into Sweeney's eyes, but the stranger pulled his gaze away from him.

Avoiding.

"What are you here for, son? Why have you come?"

No welcomes, just direct questions that made Anthony's heart somehow ache from its sleek sharpness. He opened his mouth to answer, but even he realized that he had no good answer to reply to this.

Silence stretched for a moment until Anthony finally replied, trying to form the right words.

"I was just passing by, and remembered your words. That you will be in Fleet Street. I thought I will come see you, and how you are doing so far.." Anthony's voice trailed off. Sweeney seemed unconvinced and perhaps, once again, neutral to this information.

"It is kind of you, son, but I have much work to be done. Ask what you will and leave."

Anthony's expression fell. He felt like a little boy again, being dismissed because he was too small to understand, too naïve to be included into the conversation of adults.

He walked further, passing the barber's chair in the center of the room and standing just behind it so he would not be taking too much of Mr. Todd's personal space.

"I wanted to know more about the tale you had told me about. Just before we left, my friend."

Anthony saw Mr. Todd become stiff as a board, his expression freezing.

The cold seeped through Anthony's bones at seeing the crestfallen, broken look on the Sweeney's face, just before it had fixed together. Once again, Anthony felt that he had spoken of a subject that was too delicate and breakable to be mentioned.

"_Leave."_

Anthony started. He had been thinking so deeply to himself that he had not seen Mr. Todd move. The razor was gone, much to Anthony's ease, however Sweeney's change seemed to make his mind scream that danger, somehow in the form of this man, was coming.

"I'm-.." Anthony faltered, looking apologetically, "-I'm sorry, Mr. Todd."

"_Leave." _Sweeney repeated, who was standing right in front of Anthony.

Anthony could feel the man's breath, its silky contact on his face.

He was looking once more into Mr. Todd's beautiful eyes and suddenly...

There seemed no anger.

Mr. Todd was watching him not with the look he held before, but a happiness.

An eerie joy.

**x X x**

"Lucy..."

Sweeney whispered, his voice wavering.

His expression softening.

"Just like...

_Lucy.."_

Unlike last time, when Anthony pulled his hand forward to be shaken, Sweeney Todd reached out. His gloved hands prevented him to feel any further than his fingertips but he didn't seem to care. He leaned closely as his hand combed through Anthony's light golden hair.

Anthony seemed surprised, confused at what had just happened, but he did not protest. A faint red tinted his face, but that was all that showed of his embarrassment. Right now, what he felt more strongly than ever was mystification. He did not understand why Mr. Todd was reaching out for him, and yet pulling a veil over his face.

Why this man called him Lucy.

He watched.

Listened to the anguished music in Sweeney's eyes.

And then it hit Anthony.

He understood.

_The Barber and his Wife...  
__It was no ordinary story._

_It was your tragedy... _Anthony thought with realization, compassion and sadness filling his heart.

Sweeney continued to twist and turn the locks of his light blond hair. It was as if this grown man had become a young boy, no older than Anthony and perhaps even more younger. The sailor could feel it.

The innocence of this action.

And Anthony did nothing. He let Mr. Todd feel through his hair.

Because somehow, in the most secluded section of his mind, Anthony wanted this to linger.

To stay with him.

It was so gentle...

It reminded Anthony of the sea and its unpredictable waves.

The call of the wind could easily turn it into a ravenous beast, swallowing every ship as it sank, licking the edges when it fell. Without the wind, though, it remained still. Constantly elapsing over one another but not in any way angered. It would just continue to hum an invisible melody of calm.

And this was how Anthony would describe what he was experiencing now.

He should feel shame and guilt.

He should be recoiling, leaving as Mr. Todd had demanded.

And yet...

_No._

Sweeney's eyes were pleading.

_Don't leave me._

Anthony could feel himself falter.

Succumbing just once.

Only for this moment.

The hands that had previously traveled through his hair had now found its way to his face, stroking softly.. lovingly.

Sweeney pulled and pulled until Anthony had difficulty breathing. An arm had placed itself on his hips protectively.

Gripping tightly.

A hushed breathing crossing between the two of them.

Mr. Todd's eyes were filled with tears and it splashed onto Anthony like a stinging bite.

He winced, but stood still.

Not for the last time, Anthony wondered why he was letting all of this happen.

His face, however, showed nothing of his doubts. He just leaned closer to the only other warmth in this room.

"_Lucy, I've missed you... Missed you so much.  
__My heart had broken so.  
__15 years I've waited, and I find you here.  
__Still.  
__Waiting for me."_

These were the words Sweeney was whispering into Anthony's ears.

And then it was drowned.

The sailor wasn't even able to gasp as Sweeney touched his lips with his own, letting it stay together. For the longest moment, it was like this.

Anthony's eyes were wide.

Wide, but not afraid.

Lips parted.

It was a throbbing pain to feel it disappear until it came back again, this time a bit more persuasive.

On Sweeney's side, he seemed to be mouthing and kissing the words 'I missed you, I missed you' all over. Constantly leaving Anthony's lips in the air for a moment, the young man breathless, until Sweeney leaned back into him for more.

Anthony closed his eyes.

The words for his song pulsated through his entire body.

Weaving.

_I feel you..._

It was sweet and spectacular.

The young sailor kissed Sweeney back, wanting to know what the other person tasted like. He could smell him, feel the roughness of skin. It was something he was not quite acquainted to. A new sensation. It thrilled him inside, and yet it made him more guiltier, knowing this was not love.

It was not directed towards him.

It was for a woman named Lucy who just so happened to be like him.

He was using her memory.

The vision Sweeney was seeing from him.

_I feel you..._

Tears.

Somehow it came to Anthony as well.

It slid down, spreading its liquid fingers over Mr. Todd's face as well.

The forlorn Barber continued to kiss, to close his arms around Anthony even more than he already had.

As if he was going to disappear.

Crumbling like ash.

The grieving aura, and the contrasting happiness that seemed to flow from Mr. Todd was overwhelming.

_I feel you...  
__And yet I know nothing.  
__Only that of a single barber.  
__So lost and fallen like his beautiful wife._

Anthony sang silently.

The world inside his mind's eye melting entirely, like wax.

Darkness and gray, white and light.

Glimmering like Mr. Todd's haunted eyes..

_Do you feel me too?  
__Or is Lucy with you now.  
__Giving you the care  
__that no one else could give?_

As if in response, Mr. Todd opened his eyes.

Anthony's eyes slowly waking from a shimmery dream.

He noticed how their mouths stopped moving.

How the hands that grasped him as if death was coming had become rigid and stiff.

When finally both their glittering orbs met, Anthony knew.

The changed glance.

The coldness.

The buried fury.

Roaring.

Anthony was looking into the eyes of fire.

A deathly black.

There was no time to think or speak, to run or breath when those arms released him with a hateful shove. He could feel his whole body stagger, his feet falling.

_Falling.._

The descending hand that struck his face.

The pain as his head impacted on something hard behind him.

And finally.

Twilight.

**x X x**

"**YOU!"**

Sweeney yelled as if the world had betrayed.

_**This was not his LUCY!**_

The very words sunk its hideous teeth deeply in every part of his body.

His heart was screaming with searing pain.

Sweeney's feet were moving in circles for a moment, agitated by this fuming emotion inside of him.

But eventually his eyes settled on the unconscious young sailor, his forehead and lips bleeding, his body strewn on top of the barber's chair in an odd angle. To his distaste he was still breathing, Anthony's chest rising and falling.

"_My Lucy.." _he whispered, his hands clenching into fists.

Sweeney closed in towards the young man who had used him.

A insignificant.

Just another face in London's crowd.

_Insignificant._

Sweeney started to snarl and spit the words he spoke with an unwavering venom dripping in his voice.

_There's a hole in the world like a great black pit,_

_And it's filled with people who are filled with shit,_

_And the vermin of the world inhabit it..._

Deadly eyes flicked to the table with his friends, waiting for the taste of blood.

Yearning like he had.

Sweeney considered it.

He would have gone to it if he had not caught a glimpse of Anthony's face once more.

_So young._

_So lost._

_And oh, so.._

_Beautiful._

"No.." Sweeney heard himself speak.

The young sailor's neck was vulnerable, an easy victim.

If he wielded his blade right now, without any remorse, he could have the satisfaction of killing his first.

But he couldn't.

This young man looked too much like Lucy.

It hurt.

Lucy was his salvation.

_He couldn't._

Sweeney hissed in frustration and turned his face completely away from his friends and Anthony altogether. He stared out of the window, the familiar glass stained and aged with filth. And yet it held together, saving him from slipping away. This glass, not broken like the mirror his Lucy had bought long ago, its pieces shattered.

He touched it with his hands, trying to understand. But the darkness and light reflected, showing him the unconscious sailor, his friends waiting to be used and the room itself.

His face.

_Icy._

Sweeney did nothing but stare.

He thought but never moved, just watching out into the distance with a frown until night came.

And then twilight tracing its delicate fingers into the room.

Over Sweeney's edged face.

Latching onto Anthony's body.

_Everything._

**x X x**

Hours passed and Anthony was still out cold, his eyes occasionally fluttering behind.

Sweeney had only glanced once, before turning back to the window. He was still furious. Wrathful. However he could not make himself hate Anthony without directing his anger towards Lucy. He did not want that.

_It was his fault,  
__all because of this intolerable young sailor!_

He hated to admit that Anthony _was _similar to Lucy.

And yet so utterly different.

Sweeney heard a groan, and something heavy fall to the wooden floor. He didn't look back immediately. Hoarse breathing followed with these sounds that pierced the quiet. The young man behind him was coughing.

Sweeney Todd whirled to meet him, the sailor with his golden hair and yearning for love so unique and twisted.

Anthony was trying to get up to his feet, one hand on his bleeding forehead and another on the ground. Blood was dripping, each droplet growing only slightly in size. His eyes seemed a little unfocused, but otherwise the young man was alive and breathing.

"I'm sorry.." Anthony coughed, and this time his efforts to get back on his feet worked, his body reacting dizzily.

Sweeney glared at Anthony. The young man winced.

"Why?"

Anthony looked up, his face held down in shame. He could not reply without saying something foolish.

"WHY!"

Mr. Todd, or Sweeney, was ferocious now. With swift movement, Anthony was sitting on the Barber's chair, one hand held firmly on his chest and another that clasped the razor. Fear had grown into the pit of his stomach almost immediately and regret was no inevitably washing through him like poison.

The blade was so close, inches away from his throat.

Sweeney's eyes seemed to glow almost red, the color of a bloodbath, but Anthony did not notice. His breathing was still rough, after his impact. Pain was pouring into every bit of his body.

"Fascination.  
I never meant to harm you, Mr. Todd, sir.  
Never."

Sweeney gave out a crude grin, "You already have, Anthony."

The sailor could not help but frown and shiver. The blade was shining, welcoming him a close death and waving goodbye.

But Mr. Todd wasn't going to kill him. Sweeney stared at Anthony, his eyes drawing the sailor in. The silver edge of the barber's blade emitted a mirror image of Anthony and Sweeney, their faces half cut together but clipped together in illusion of the eyes.

The silver blade was lowered.

Sweeney smiled.

Eyes challenging.

His fingers were touching Anthony's hair again, enjoying the softness.

The sweetness of it all, mixed equally with the past and now, the present.

"_Come.  
_I shall create beauty from pain.  
You will be my first."

_Bliss._

The two were together enclosed with each other once more.

History intertwined with now.

Crimson on their trail.

Salvation found in the most uniquest of ways.

**x X x**

**Whaddya guys think! (;  
****Please let me know and review!  
****Hope you guys enjoyed!**


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